waiting for my tea to cool.

on this beautifully cool evening, i look forward to warming myself down to my toes with a cup of peppermint tea and some freshly-baked sugar cookies... it is lovely indeed to be enjoying this treat with the sound of crickets and frogs still ringing loudly through the summer night. it is my favorite time of year to say the least, and this night is begging for reminiscence.

when i turned 28, my dear friend took me out for dessert and stood beside me patiently as i nursed a prematurely-wounded heart (it did take a little longer than the one night). it was a nonplussed celebration.
following was a wonderful whirlwind of second storie, of new friends, more new friends (who've added beautifully to my art collection!), new strength, and new hope... and yes, more new friends.
when i just turned 29, my same dear friend who rescued me from 28 (with beautiful help this time) gathered together the amazing group of friends i am so honored to know. it was a sublime (and surprise) celebration.
perfectly parenthetical birthdays... filled with love and pride.

what, oh what, will these coming twelve months hold? i am brimming with excitement if not words!!
karen

best birthday since '82!!!!

i spent the morning with a purring cat on my lap and knitting needles in my hands. i spent the afternoon outside on the most perfect day our summer has seen; a warm breeze on my face, and the sun casting beautiful shadows. i spent my evening in the surprise company of friends new and old.
the day was all right in every way.

scallion love

just a quick peek at what i've been working on lately. the full garden of market vegetables will be harvested in time for my afternoon at the south wedge farmer's market on august 21st, but for now, i'm too in love with these scallions not to share them.
i'd been getting a little bored lately with my knitting, and and i needed a quick addition to the line to help push me along. these were perfect. with full encouragement from someone very special as i vocally thought out the pattern, and in perfect company as i actually took the yarn to the needles, i'm happy and interested again. i'll be making one last push in the next week or so to finish the rest of the veggies before the market, but it'll be at a comfortable pace.
i can't wait to see how this project finishes, and i really can't wait to work on some new projects i've had rolling around in my head for a while. more on that when the time comes...

k

lightning storms from a tim horton's parking lot

my wonderful friend nick is in town and i'm thrilled. no one else could get me (happily) to a tim horton's in the middle of the night ("i have a coupon!"), and with no one else would i just happen upon a breathtaking lightning storm.
six years ago we similarly happened upon lake ontario in the middle of the night, on a boredom-drive. pulling off to the shore, we watched for hours the lightning in the distance, wondering if it really was lightning we were watching. the next morning the paper reported the uncommon sightings of the northern lights from the shores of lake ontario.
sitting on the curb of the tim horton's parking lot watching the electric sky, we both fondly (and uncharacteristically) reminisced to that long-ago night...
i will miss nick in a few days, as he moves on in his usual fashion, but am looking forward to an autumn train ride down to visit him in new york city.

timing... holy cow.

"each of us carries our own clock, our own monitor of the passage of time. each clock is equally precise, yet when we move relative to one another, these clocks do not agree. they fall out of synchronization; they measure different amounts of elapsed time between two chosen events."

brian greene, the fabric of the cosmos


in the context of physics, this statement is pretty profound (or at least the idea behind it was pretty profound when einstein proposed it in 1915). in the context of life outside of the scientific preoccupation, this statement loses no profundity. we each have our own individual paths and timelines... and when we're lucky, they'll synch up with another's in beautiful, elegant ways. i don't believe in "fate," i don't think things are "meant to be." i believe in timing, in how powerful synchronization can be when it's realized.
coincidence leaves my jaw on the ground. with over 6 billion people on this earth, each with their own agenda, each realizing one of innumerable possible outcomes of any given moment, it amazes me when our outcomes entwine themselves with eachother's... against all of the odds, our paths will simply and unexpectedly cross with another's and for a moment of moments we'll be in synch and in perfect harmony. beautifully.

karen

-the most perfect sidenote: earlier today i read the passage i quoted above. i, obviously, was quite taken. i've been thinking about it all day and planned to post about it this evening. as i was image-searching for "timing" and "clocks" i stumbled upon the photo above, which linked to a blog by tam rice. there is rarely a more profound elegance than me reading her words as i prepared this post...

a sort of homecoming...

as the soothing sound and smell of the mid-afternoon rainstorm blows into my window, i'm feeling more and more at home. i've given myself a rigorous schedule today, forcing myself back to work on a project i've been avoiding for weeks, organizing my thoughts for upcoming second storie events, filling my kitchen with fresh and lovely food, and overall climbing out of the self-induced, uninspired funk i've been in. it finally feels good to be back. my recent week in the woods has left me in an unexpected state of sadness (maybe more on that soon?), and the transition home has been slow.
as the rain outside is letting up, so too are my dampened spirits.
i'm off to write a letter to a friend i miss dearly. and on that note, i must add praises for a wonderful little office supply company who have recently provided me with fresh, blackest of black typewriter ribbons. they are beacons of hope in the dying markets of typewriter supplies and good customer service. they were a true joy to do business with.

mourning absences

i've just returned, smelling of bug spray and campfires, from a week in the adirondack woods. my clothes have been laundered, my pack has been returned to the closet, and the dirt from my feet has been washed down the drain. though my physical body has quickly acclimated itself to its normal routines and comforts, my head
and my heart remain distant and burdened.

i'm struggling for more, but its absent.
k

sun up, sun down

there will be no full-circle eloquence to this post; i am too spent for that tonight. this day has dragged me throught the mud and has tested my emotional limits. i have just simple thanks.
i got onto this computer of mine tonight to lay some things to rest before i lay myself to rest. as heavy as my shoulders are, and as droopy as my eyelids are, my heart is happy again.
as easy as it is to let another person dramatically alter your day for the worse, as i did today, it's so much easier to let yourself be swept into a peaceful calm by the unexpected and kind words of friends.
megan, i'm glad for your adventurous journey here, too.
and shanna, i suppose there is a certain full-circle eloquence afterall... thanks for being there this morning, and especially thanks for being there this evening.
i will dream well.
k